


A Delight for the Senses

by SoundandColor



Category: Hellraiser (Movies)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Consent Issues, F/F, Hate Sex, Stalking, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-19
Updated: 2014-12-19
Packaged: 2018-03-02 03:29:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2797922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoundandColor/pseuds/SoundandColor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>You've always been the one that got away</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Delight for the Senses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Wilde_Shade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wilde_Shade/gifts).



She thinks she sees Julia from time to time.

In the rearview mirror of her truck, from the corner of her eye, five rows ahead of her in a darkened movie theater. When Kirsty was a child and her father brought this strange woman home to be her new mother, she’d looked up at Julia and thought she was the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen. She’s even more eye catching now. A walking, weeping wound only Kirsty is aware of.

She notices her standing on the side of the gas station as Kirsty fills her car up before going home. She pretends not to see, and Julia keeps her distance. For now, at least.

-

 

She’s in the house.

The knowledge of that should be alarming, but Kirsty wakes up the way she did when her father had a weekend off and made her pancakes. Easy and warm. Her husband is in bed next her, his knees curled up to his chest with his back to her. He’s still snoring, as blind and deaf as he usually is. He has no idea who he’s sleeping next to, no idea what’s in his house. She can hear Julia’s footsteps. The sound of skinless feet against the hardwood they just had installed two months ago.

She rolls onto her back and listens harder ( **Slap** … _squelch_. **Slap** … _squelch_ ).

She’s still downstairs at least.

Kirsty imagines her riffling through their cabinets, flipping through their cable channels, looking down her nose at Kirsty’s decorating choices. The thought would be funny if this weren’t the same woman who sent her father to burn.

She realizes the sound below them has stopped and in her mind she can see Julia as clearly as she’s ever seen anything in her life. Her body still, head turned up toward the stairs, her mind on Kirsty.

 

-

 

They’re like people in that everyone has a distinct note to call their own, but generally, Cenobites smell of newly still water. Like mostly nothing with just a hint of the unpleasantness to come. Her husband ‘needed some time’ and she is here alone. Almost. They were (Are? Will be?) here, too. Peeking through her things, poking around her edges, looking for a new way in.

She dreams of them ( _Him_ ) sometimes. Even though she's prayed, medicated and willed herself not to. Of her uncle, of pain, of an all seeing, all knowing dark light (THE LEVIATHAN) and she wants to be there (now, now, _nownownownownow_ ). She can smell them again, stronger than before. Closer to this dimension. Even without the box, they can hear her.

( _It is not hands that summon us_ )

“Leave me alone,” she mutters. The words aren’t convincing even to her own ears.

 

-

 

She can feel Julia standing behind her now and it’s not that surprising at all. Kirsty doesn’t even stop putting on her night cream until she hears the wet rattle of the woman’s breath.

“Kirsty.” She isn’t sure if the voice is in her head or spoken aloud but her husband hasn’t moved an inch from his spot in their bed and her hands have begun to shake. She looks up into the mirror to see a mess of bulging eyes, naked veins and stretched tendons. “Long time no see.”

“How’s married life been treating you?”

“Better than it did you.”

Julia laughs a little and, for the first time since this all started, Kirsty begins to feel uneasy. “That wouldn’t exactly be difficult, but then again, you’ve always chosen the easiest route, haven’t you?” Julia says it with a certain _tone_. A certain _look_ that Kirsty recognizes from her teenage years of sneaking out and getting caught. She doesn’t think her stepmother has any right to wield it against her anymore. Not with what Julia’s done.

“Yes, that’s something my dear uncle Frank and I have in common. We always find the easiest ways to get what we want. Right, Julia?”

She’s strong, stronger than Kirsty remembers her being. Stronger than she has any right to be, and much faster, too. When she flings Kirsty’s head forward into the mirror, she does it so quickly, there’s almost no pain. Not at first anyway. Then there’s blood in her eyes, she's been spun around and they’re chest to chest with her ass half up on the counter at her back, her gown soaked with red and clinging, Julia’s hips between her legs. Kirsty watches through a haze as the door between her and her husband closes with a soft click and she has a moment to think over the fact that Julia even bothered with the nicety before the hand on her thigh takes all of her attention.

Julia squeezes then drags it upward and Kirsty moves to close her knees, but she’s still foggy, and even completely aware she’d still be no match.

“Tsk, tsk,” the other woman admonishes while pushing past her resistance. “You were in my skin once. Maybe I want to take a turn in yours. It would only be fair.”

She touches her then because Kirsty isn’t strong enough to stop her. Touches her the way her husband hasn’t in months. The way Steve used to when she first came back home. Like that and more. Like she’s trying to prove a point. Like Julia wants her to enjoy this so she can rub it in her face later. Like she hates her. Like she wants it to hurt.

Kirsty moves back against her. She’s wet, but the slick muscle of Julia's fingers barely blunts the pressure of bone against Kirsty's flesh. It’s almost too much. Almost too much and not nearly enough.

“I ought to take you back to _Him_ right now. Just like this.” Kirsty’s hips push forward before she can stop herself and Julia smiles. “He’d get you into top form quickly, but I think you might prefer a less… formal instructor.”

“No.”

“Oh, _yes_. You’ve always been the one that got away.” Julia pushes her thumb hard against the base of Kirsty’s clit and rubs in a slow circle. It’s definitely too much now, but Kirsty won’t be the first to blink. She grabs Julia by her shoulder with as much nail and as much strength as she can gather and Julia shows her teeth with something caught between rage and amazement.

“ _He’s_ going to be delighted to see you again, but not yet,” she declares, moving forward, getting into Kirsty’s face. “Not until I’ve had my fill. Not until I've heard you scream.”

She feels herself becoming calm inside, more calm than she's been in a very long time, and she can see Julia startle in the face of it. "I think you'll be surprised by what I can take."

She studies Kirsty for a moment, really _looks_ at her for maybe the first time ever before leaning forward and they're almost embracing now, almost like lovers.  Her lips move wetly against the lobe of Kirsty's ear. "You and I," she whispers flatly." We're going to have. So. Much. Fun."

Kirsty meets her gaze and holds it. "Do your worst."

 

-

 

This isn’t the first time Kirsty’s had blood in her mouth. She’s beginning to enjoy the taste.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks, [lanalucy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/lanalucy/pseuds/lanalucy). You calmed my nerves and corrected my grammar.


End file.
